


Much too Late for Neverland

by Cornfields_and_bad_dreams



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Vomiting, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornfields_and_bad_dreams/pseuds/Cornfields_and_bad_dreams
Summary: The reader starts a downward spiral into an anxiety attack.  David and Gwen want to help, but the reader just can't admit whats wrong.





	Much too Late for Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged as General Audience because I don't think it counts as a Teen and Up rating. But fair warning there is a part that gets a bit dark/deep. Nothing too bad though.

Though it's still only early July and the encroaching day you would give anything to obliterate isn't until August, you still feel nauseous. With every day that passes August gets closer and the pit in your stomach grows larger. You try your best to keep functioning normally from day to day, but your nerves start to impact your work, you're certainly starting to notice it, and to your horror so does David and Gwen.

"Are you okay?" David seems to appear out of thin air. Suddenly behind you, as you work on detangling embroidery yarn from the days earlier activity of bracelet making. You jump at the sudden sound of his voice and quickly jerk your head around to face him.

"Me? Of course, I'm okay." You force a smile that you pray is believable, but from the look on his face, he doesn't buy it. You turn back to the mass of yarn in your hands. "Why wouldn't I be?" your words come out almost mumbled.

"You've been a bit distant and on edge lately. Are you sure there isn't anything bothering you?" David steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder. A part of you wants to pull away, but another part is desperate for the comfort of physical contact. Either way, you stiffen up.

"I'm fine, nothing's wrong. Yep, perfect, everything's perfect." Your voice is quiet and forced. The sound of fear and uncertainty clings to your words, the hand on your shoulder tightens a bit.

"[Y/n], please. I just want to help."

Without even thinking you bolt up from where you were sitting and begin to abscond. Calling over your shoulder behind you, you mean to say 'I think I hear Harrison calling for me.' but all that comes out is an incoherent jumble of sound, though you don't know that, your own heartbeat is all you can hear.

The rest of the day you try your best to avoid David, despite your honest interest in taking him up on his offer of help, something in you can't push yourself to do so. After checking to make sure the campers are asleep you make your way to the dock. Your current plan of action is to wait until your co-counselors are surely asleep before retiring to the cabin. Letting your feet hang above the water you close your eyes, breathing in and out you attempt to calm yourself. But once again your anxiety begins to creep back to mind and the sudden sound of footsteps behind you only worsens the ever-growing knot that was previously your guts.

"[Y/n] David and I are worried." Gwen's voice holds a tone of concern that makes you want to puke.

Staring out at the water of the lake, you want to speak, so many words flood your mind, words that you are very willing to let spill. But the feeling building in the back of your throat is not words, and you fear that if you open your mouth a floodgate of vomit will be released. You aren't sure when it started but you are suddenly aware that you are shaking, you are suddenly aware of a few other things too. Things such as your fingers digging into the wood of the dock, the feeling of splinters biting into your flesh, the horrible build up of an excruciating migraine, your teeth painfully sinking into the tip of your tongue and the vile taste of copper in your mouth. You jerk forward unintentionally, your head hanging over the end of the dock. You want it out, you need it out, all of it the words, the pain, the vomit and the blood. You want it gone but your body refuses to release. You tense up, even worse than before, your jaw clenches and your head jerks to the left violently over and over again. You can't stop, why can't you stop, oh god you want to stop. Your eyes are shut tight unable to open, then it happens.

"[Y/n]?"

Davids' voice fills your ears, the concern in his voice breaks your heart. You feel his hand press against your back, something in you snaps, like a cord pulled far too tight. All your tension vanishes. Your eyes open wide staring straight down at the water, but within seconds they're closed again. Your jaw releases, and when you open your eyes again the water below you is murky with a swill of blood and bile. Your throat and nose burn with stomach acid, but you find the new pain much more tolerable than that which came before it. Your eyes are wet with tears, though originally a simple reaction to puking, heavy tears begin to fall and harsh sobs escape your throat. Leftover spew chokes at your lungs, but your airway clears itself after a few hard coughs.

"[Y/n] what's wrong? Gwen, what do we do?"

Davids presence at your side startles you. How long has he been there? How have you not noticed until now? The feeling of a hand, Davids most likely, rubbing at your back slowly comes to your senses, accompanied by two other hands on your shoulders. Now more attentive of the world around you, you find that David is on his knees to your right, hand placed at your shoulder undoubtedly meant to stop you from pitching into the lake. Gwen is to your left with one of her hands on your other shoulder. A conversation between them fills your ears, but only parts of it seem coherent to you.

Between sobs you here the question "What's wrong?" again but aren't sure who asked it. Regardless you attempt to compose yourself enough to answer.

"It's stupid." you choke out. "It's my birthday. I can't stop grieving over it."

"Your birthday?" someone asks, you believe it's David.

"It's in a month, ever since my 18th I've freaked out over growing up. But this birthday is really bad."

"Why's that?" slightly more composed now, you are able to identify the question as coming from Gwen.

"I'm turning 20, I really am going to be an adult. No more nineTEEN just TWENTY. It scares me to think about being a grown-up."

Gwen and David both sigh, shifting to sit with their feet hanging off the dock as well. David takes a hold of your hand while Gwen wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to her.

"You've really beat yourself up over this haven't you?" she asks.

"You would be surprised to see how bad I can get over the smallest of things."

"You really shouldn't be afraid to turn 20. It's really just a number, you'll still be the same [Y/n] you were before." David adds.

"19 feels like I'm still a teen like I have at least some leeway to not worry about what I'm doing with my life. But 20 feels like I have to figure out what I'm doing and get everything in order. I feel like such a mess, I'm not doing anything with my life and it's terrifying."

"Everyone thinks they have to have everything figured out by the time their 20's but that's bullshit. While it is important to have some idea of what your gonna do it's ok if you're not pursuing some grand endeavor yet. I'm still not really sure what I'm doing, and it does get to me at times, but in the end, I'm able to tell myself it's fine. So this is me telling you right now, it's fine. YOU are fine." Gwen's words soothe your nerves a bit, but a shred of doubt still remains.

"What if I never figure out what I want to do though?"

"I'm sure you'll find something that feels right for you. I'm willing to help you, and I'm sure David is too."

"Of course, if you want us to that is," David adds.

"You really think I'll be fine?"

"Absolutely. You're a great counselor, you take charge very well, and you work wonderfully with the kids. You definitely have those skills and even more under your belt." David practically cheers.

"If you really think so, I guess I don't have anything to worry about."

"Well, there's always something to worry about. But growing up shouldn't be one of them." Gwen runs her fingers through your hair.

David stands up and offers a hand to you.

"Come on, you should get cleaned up and head to bed. A good nights sleep will do you good."

Taking Davids hand he pulls you to your feet, Gwen follows behind.

"Don't worry about tomorrow. David and I can handle the camp for the day, you can relax and de-stress. I have some bath bombs squirreled away if you want to use one of them." Gwen comments, a hand on your back as the three of you head for the cabin.

"I think I'd like that very much."

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work you can find me on Tumblr at writing-camp-camp.


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